


I Will Be Here When You Are Ready

by NorthwesternInsanity



Category: Music RPF, REO Speedwagon
Genre: Angst, Driving, Gen, Moving, Optimism, Road Trip, Roll With The Changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-29 08:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20432186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwesternInsanity/pseuds/NorthwesternInsanity
Summary: Kevin Cronin makes his journey from Illinois to California to rejoin REO Speedwagon in 1976, rolling Westbound through the countryside with his thoughts of his past, his future ahead of the road, and all the changes along the way.





	I Will Be Here When You Are Ready

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Kevin Cronin's remark in interviews that he wrote "Roll With the Changes" on a trashbag while driving a U-Haul to rejoin REO in 1976.

Thunder boomed above the U-Haul truck. Over the grumble of the engine, and the rattle of the cargo latches on the metal box with each bump in the road running West through Kansas that Kevin Cronin guided the vehicle holding all his belongings along.

The window was rolled down, and the wind whipped through his mass of dark hair and dried the residual tear tracks that ran down his face as he gazed down the open road ahead, and the cow pastures on either side of him.

He'd already said his goodbyes to his family and local friends over the last week of packing up his belongings, seeking to reunite with his old bandmates at the phone call he'd received from Gary Richrath and Neal Doughty. The same phone call he'd eagerly waited three years for.

He'd also weighed his options for transportation. He knew he could have taken up Gary's offer. Had his items shipped privately, and caught a plane to California.

But the changes were big and daunting, as great as the reward ahead looked in the distance, and he'd chosen to ease himself over across the country, one mile at a time down the road.

The sun was out brighter and earlier than usual, it seemed, when he rolled out South through Illinois at 6:30 in the morning to catch his Westbound road of choice. The sun reflected off the yellow ears exposed in the cornfields he'd seen form walls along the road all his life, and it tinged the air sweet as he took the last drive through his home state he would for some time.

Reality struck when he crossed the border into Missouri two and a half hours later, and soon found himself on roads wide open on either side, showing him just how alone on that road he was. He switched the radio on and put the windows down, and tried to take in the scenery as his heart pounded with the rattle of the truck and the increasing heat of the day filtered oppressively through the glass.

The rain started an hour into the state. Two and a half hours in, and pushing just over five hours on the road, Kevin made his first stop of the day. Checking the map to see how far he'd gone while waiting to see if the downpour would lighten up a bit before leaving the service station, the tears started too.

Over the radio, his musical hero, Stephen Stills offered him a gruff warning to stop crying over the good times he'd had and keep his eyes on what was waiting for him at the end of the road he'd already driven so far on. With a fast inhale of the damp air coming through the vents of the truck, he pulled back onto the road, pushed the pedal down hard, and let the engine kick back into overdrive.

An hour and a half later, he crossed the border into Kansas, and the weak, slippery grip on his composure began to strengthen as his optimism found its second wind.

Rain still pattered on the windshield between the wiper blades that swished and squeaked back and forth over his window on the world. But while dark, ominous clouds hung in the sky behind him in the view of the side mirrors, bright sun glinted of the drops of the rain on the glass in front of him, causing him to squint his eyes and screw up his face until his eyes adjusted.

He then welcomed the change, rolling the windows back down and letting the fresh air flood the cab of the truck, clear the humidity inside, and clear his thoughts too.

No storm sirens rang out, aside from the one that rang out in his head, created on a mini-Moog synthesizer, leading into the story of the blizzard he'd been in the last time he'd driven so far West, and the last time he'd been with those he was on his way toward now.

They'd had their fights, but he'd missed them, and he smiled through the last bit of moisture in his eyes as he thought back to the phone call inviting him back. Alan's calm, collected, and measured details of their plans and what had happened while they were gone, Neal's dry humored responses that brought images to his mind of shaking his head and rolling his eyes, and Gary's bright laugh and playful banter.

He'd waited for them to be ready for him. Now they were ready, and waiting for his arrival, and it was his turn to roll back into their lives.

Finally, Kevin was driving under full sunlight, and as Stephen Stills began to fade from the music constantly playing in the back of his mind, a similar, but slightly different melody, driven by piano began to filter in.

To his right, a ripped-up, scrunchy brown paper bag blew down the side of the road with the wind sweeping the plain, and he found himself sliding his left hand up to the top of the steering wheel for full control as his right searched the top of the dashboard for where he'd left a pen, and a trash bag of a similar kind.

He wrote the words beginning to slide together in his head as he kept on rolling down the road, through the changes he was taking with each mile he passed.

Road wear was beginning to overtake him from continuous motion on the pedals and the steering wheel across another near five-hour stretch when he rolled into his second stop of the day, still a couple of hours from hitting Colorado, and at least another five hour stretch before he'd turn in for the night in Denver. 

He emerged from the rest area, relieved and refreshed. The evidence of all the tears since his last stop had been erased with a splash of cold water to his face at the sink. Once he'd refueled the U-Haul truck that he'd become more accustomed to driving over the course of the day than he'd anticipated, he pulled into a parking space away from the gas station and checked over his writing from the road while consuming his takeout dinner.

On the space on the bag beside his messy, blind scrawl that scattered with each bump of the suspension, he translated the forming lyrics into more legible writing, and re-ordered a few words he felt were out of place.

The afternoon was beginning to fade into evening, and the sun was getting lower and more intense in the Western horizon Kevin faced as he returned to the road once again, but it didn't burn quite as badly as it had earlier. He felt a sense of strength, and playfulness returning to him as he bounded down the road and the Colorado mountains began to appear as faint, familiar outlines in the distant horizon.

_I've seen this road before..._

The change from the last time he'd seen it was good -one he was certain as ever he could roll with. If good times were ahead as Gary enthusiastically declared when he answered the call, he could believe that those would soon come too.

The optimistic melody, diverting in his mind from an old favorite grew stronger as he drove into the sunset he faced. Kevin found himself humming the progression until the drone of the truck engine seemed to absorb it and repeat it back to him in a bass-like rumble. 

The fullness of the sound caught the chill in the air with the dropping light and rising altitude, and the waves rode up his spine in a shiver. But rather than leaving the windows up and adjusting the climate control to warm the cab, he rolled the windows back down and let the cool, thin, mountain air he drove on into blow through his hair with a higher, harmonized chorus in the wind.

Maybe he was speeding as he rolled down the road, but as ever ready as he was to roll with the changes he'd committed to and keep on rolling unyieldingly toward his last stop, he stopped an hour outside of Denver to pick up his acoustic guitar. Just to repeat the progression and ensure all the sounds ringing in his head were turning to the same page he thought they were.

Night had fallen heavy when Kevin rolled into Denver and make a stiff-legged walk toward his hotel room with his overnight bag.

His eyelids were heavy, his head buzzed with the rumble of the truck, and he wanted to lean forward and lay his head down on any flat surface by the time he got out of the shower, but the road wear didn't stop him from dialing the phone number he'd planned to call since the beginning of the day.

"Hey, KC." Gary's voice was warm and affectionate, like it was when they weren't butting heads. Kevin could picture him smiling on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Gary."

"Make it in for the night safe?"

"Mmmm-hmm. Same drive you and Alan made when we were all together, though I gotta tell you, it was pretty different right up until the end. I'm just an hour down the road from where we rode out that storm together."

"Last song we wrote together, and you're right where we were when we made the plan to go up there. Funny how that works out."

"I wrote a song on the road to show you guys," Kevin offered proudly, hitching his mouth into a smile despite his immense fatigue as the day quickly caught up with him. "Wish we could have written it together, but it could probably use a lot more work and become even better if we look at it for some time."

"We just might when the time comes," Gary assured, "and there are a few cool places I want to drive you to, to write together, like we used to. As soon as you're settled in, I'll be here and ready when you are."

"I'll be ready soon enough," said Kevin, fighting a yawn. "Our time is gonna come."

"Get some rest and get here safe. G'night, KC."

With a contented sigh, Kevin let his heavy, fatigued arm crash the phone down into the cradle on the nightstand.

Repeating Gary's words in his mind, he scribbled one last line to complete a gap between the verses in his lyrics before head hit the pillow as he finally parked it for the night. As he stretched out on the bed and let his entire body relax, he could still feel the motion of the road beneath him, carrying him off to sleep.

He dreamed of keeping on rolling with the windows down through the sun shower that ended the storm brightening his windshield all through the night.


End file.
